


It's not What it Seemed

by Casserole_momma



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Creepy guys are creepy, Deadpool Saves The Day, Deadpool being Deadpool, Drugs, Escape, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Human Trafficking, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Lots of it, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Possible Future Smut?, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Road Trips, Torture, big white vans, idk we will see, nothing goes tooooooo far I promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-05-10 02:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14728308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casserole_momma/pseuds/Casserole_momma
Summary: Peter was having the most average of days. With finals forcing him to hang up the spidey suit for a week, the most excitement he could hope for was presenting his History project. Unfortunately that ends up not being the case. He hadn't pictured being kidnapped. And he certainly hadn't prepared for the reason why.In which Peter is kidnapped and some terrible things almost happen before being saved by the merc with a mouth.This is my first time writing in a while so forgive me for- like- everything!





	1. Chapter 1

It was a pretty normal day for Peter. He had visited Aunt May before class, taken is chemistry final, presented his project in History, ate lunch with Ned, talked to his math professor about what he needed to study to pass, and finally had headed to the library to finish up his research for his English paper. It was the end of the semester and Spiderman business was put on hold until he was officially out. So lucky Peter got to spend his entire afternoon with his nose in a overpriced college textbook and going over notes. It was the most average and excitement free day he’d had since his last patrol as his hero persona. Peter would be lying if he said he didn’t miss swinging from building to building with his only worry being ‘beat up the bad guys’. But for now, school came first, and that meant having entirely average days like this.

Peter sighed as he closed his textbook, pulling out his ear buds as he checked his surroundings. Outside it was dark with the city lights illuminating the sky. Cloudy and rainy. He blinked. Well that was surprising. He’d gotten there at 5 and now it was suddenly late. How long had he been staring at these stupid books? Peter glared at his phone screen when it read 9:53pm. The library was set to close in 7 minutes and he’d not eaten dinner. Nice. At least his roommate was probably still awake due to the crushing weight of exams sitting over both their heads. 

Peter grabbed the books he’d left laying out and started his quest to put them back where he had found them. He was in the middle of reaching for the top of a shelf to replace one of the books when he felt a nagging feeling at the back of his skull. Peter looked over just in time to see a stranger sitting not that far away from him tucking his iphone into his pocket, as if he’d been caught doing something. The strange man was wearing a bulky grey coat that concealed his face. Coat guy seemed to stare at him for a while longer before rising and calmly exiting the library. The jingle of the door bell the que for his leaving. Peter saw him start running as soon as he had exited. 

Peter knew what that meant. 

He scooped up everything that was his into his backpack at lightning speed. He knew he couldn't risk the front door. That man probably wanted him to follow him into a trap. That or he had a stalker. Either way he just wanted to get back home without an encounter. If peter had to fight someone he'd rather it be as Spiderman. So he swung on his bag and made a beeline for the back exit, regrettably forgetting to say goodbye to Doris the librarian in his hurry. 

He burst out into his campus grounds, stumbling down the steps as he attempted to run as fast as he could to the subway. If he could make it on a train and stay on the busier streets then he could bet on witnesses being his protection from an incident. Peter pressed on, passing storefronts and people at breakneck speed. He was starting to wish he had grabbed a raincoat earlier today. The rain had him soaked in under a minute-

Peter flew forward as he was tripped by something. Before he could think or yell he was being dragged by his arms into a big white van. Well that’s a bit cliche. 

The guy shoving him in got a elbow to the nose, the crunch was followed by a scream and a river of blood. He let go immediately and Peter recognized him as coat guy. As soon as he was free Peter tried to run but a second goon tackled him to the concrete. This guy was stronger and was practically sitting on top of him. Peter could smell cigarettes and car freshener. The man punched him in the stomach and as Peter was recoiling he felt a prick in his skin. 

Fuck. 

Before thing 2 could empty the syringe he got a nice kick to the groin from Peter, rolling him off easily before fleeing once more. Peter didn't get far. Coat guy had recovered and had grabbed him by his backpack. This caused him to land right on his ass and the backpack strap to tear and got thrown to the side. He repaid coat guy by sweeping his legs and causing him to fall too. Before he could even get on his feet thing 2 jumped on his back, twisting and holding his arm in one hand as he slid a second syringe into his neck with the other. 

“HELP! Someone call 911-” 

“Shut the fuck up!” 

Peter was rewarded for his efforts with a punch to the ribs. He knew that now there were all these drugs in his system he was likely going to be taken by these two after he inevitably passed out. So angrily, with nothing left to lose, Peter slammed the back of his head into the face of thing 2. He had now effectively broken the noses of both of the attackers. 

“SHIT!” 

“Oh that fuckin does it.” 

Coat guy was ramming kicks into his side, one blow after the other. It was a miracle Peter didn't feel a rib crack. 

“Stop it! Get him in the van!” 

With that Peter was being dragged back into the fucking tinted windowed van. His final glance at the outside world revealed that there was no one on the street who could save him from his fate, or even call the police. His backpack was lying half tucked into an alleyway. Peter couldn't stop thinking about how if he hadn't been drugged he would have easily won the fight and these guys would be the ones on the verge of passing out. Why did they go through all this trouble to take him anyway? 

Words slurred and mind going fuzzy, Peter turned to thing two “Where are you taking me?” He couldn’t help the crack in his voice. “Where you belong.” Thing 2’s cold voice cut through Peter. He could feel his hands and feet being zip tied but distantly. He could also feel the bumps as the car drove. A third unnamed man was behind the wheel. “I don’t think you get to decide that.” He was finding it more difficult to keep his eyes open. “I do now,” Peter furrowed his brow. “And I say you belong where I want you, and that you deserve to have a nose as fucked as mine.” Coat guy pushed him down flat on his back as if on que, and before he could react punched him straight in the nose. Peter was out like a light.

... 

 

The next- however many hell filled days- consisted mostly of Peter going in and out of consciousness. He felt like he woke up often but never long enough to really remember what had happened in that time. He remembered being fed some chicken nuggets at some point? And he drank water? But mostly just darkness and muffled voices. He was in a waking and sleeping nightmare. Any time he got to think Peter was barley ever able to start to work out what it was that was going on since he’d soon feel a sharp sting in his arm or thigh or leg, and a cold would spread over his body that would blanket him again in sleep. There was throbbing everywhere. And a dull ache in his chest. Sometimes when he regained consciousness for a brief period he would find it throbbed and ached in new places. That’s how he figured out his captors were beating him regularly. Not only that but the zip ties were ridiculously uncomfortable. 

So after all that, and Peter woke up without being put back down like an animal and with no ties tied too tight, he felt nothing but the best kind of relief. Insteads he was cuffed to the side of the van, his arms spread apart from each other. When he tugged at the cuffs he found the only good it did was dig into his already sore wrists. His legs were free but his mouth was gagged. Peter was sitting on a blanket. However nice his new arrangement, he was practically naked. He was only wearing a pair of sweatpants and socks. Obviously this discovery unnerved him. But even more strange was that he was all alone in the back. Coat guy and thing 2 had been with him the whole time till now. And… he still didn’t know why any of this was happening. 

Ransom? What had seemed like the most likely answer at first certainly could be ruled out by now. If they wanted ransom money then they wouldn’t be driving him all over and keeping him constantly drugged. Wouldn’t that be too much effort for what could easily be just a couple days in some random basement? 

They knew he was Spiderman and wanted him dead? Again, they wouldn’t be doing all this. They could have killed him by now if they wanted him dead. So Peter must be of some kind of value to them for whatever reason. So what the fuck could he possibly-

“Finally awake then?” Peter turned to face the new voice. It was the man in the passenger seat. “Don’t worry lil’ fang, we ain’t gonna hurt you yet.” He realized he must have looked terrified and pathetic. Being beaten and drugged did that to people. Peter couldn’t respond to the silhouette guy so instead he just glared. The guy had a weird accent. “You’re obviously confused, and I could answer your questions. But I won’t. Instead I think it’s fair you learn the hard way what’s going to happen to you. After what you did to my friends it’s only fair.” Peter could hear the smug smile in his voice and he hated it. He wanted to say that his ‘friends’ had taken a human being against their will. That they were all unspeakably cruel. And most importantly he wanted to keep the bad guy talking. He was told to keep the bad guy talking to learn more information. This was impossible with the dirty rag that had been balled up in his mouth. So instead he was forced into silent compliance. “But you will learn. Perhaps after you do you’ll think it was all too soon.”

The van lurched forward and stopped. It was dark outside. Peter could hear the doors opening and the two figures both silently slid out of the van. His heart was picking up its pace and began a hollow thrum in his ears. The anxiety of what they were going to do to him was becoming overwhelming. The slam of the car doors shook the van, forcing Peter to focus on the footsteps making their way around… getting closer…. And then farther away. A shaky exhale escaped his nose. Were they going to leave him here? For how long? Instead of focusing on that Peter decided to instead work on freeing himself. Maybe the cuffs were a pass but he could at least try to work the cloth out of his mouth. His jaw was sore from the stretch and all he could taste was dirt. With much effort he tried to move his tongue to push the thing past his lips. After 2 or 3 minutes he felt it move a bit and was now slightly in front of his teeth. It didn’t take much more to have the cloth laying on the ground beside him. 

Peter coughed for a minute and rotated his jaw to try and stretch the ache out of it. When he looked at the cloth he noticed that most of it was white with speckles of what must be his dried blood littering the ragged thing. Gross. Now that his voice was no longer muffled, he considered the benefits of screaming- if he knew where they were was anywhere but the middle of nowhere for sure then maybe. But there was a high chance no one would hear him let alone save him. In fact it would probably only make the two men keeping him even more pissed than they already were. So his lips were sealed for now. 

Next Peter wanted to try and stand. It was probably kind of dangerous considering how long he must have been sitting and drugged up in the confined space. But he also knew that his captors would have an easier time intimidating him if was on his ass. And an even easier time beating him again. So it was on wobbly legs Peter slowly got up. First he was just on his knees. After he found the courage and using his restraints and the van wall, he slid carefully up until he was perfectly straight. Yeah he was heavily depending on the wall and he couldn’t lift his arms due to the cuffs but it counted as a victory to him. 

That’s when he heard footsteps approaching once again. A crunch like they were on gravel echoed in the otherwise perfect silence that Peter had become accustomed too in the last 10 minutes. His heart rate spiked again and Peter felt a lump form in his throat. 

They were opening the back door. 

Peter hoped he didn't look as weak as he felt. 

He flinched as light hit him in the face for what felt like the first time in an eternity. One of them was purposely shining a flashlight right in his face. “Sorry for the wait, but it looks like you weren't too bored.” Peter glared as best he could despite the light. “Just making the best of my time.” His voice was rough and cracked. He realized these were the first words he remembers speaking since thing 2 had knocked him unconscious god knows how long ago. The time disorientation was throwing him off. “Well unfortunately, fang, I don't recall asking you to remove that cloth. And I hate it when people do things I didn't want them to.” Silhouette and the man who must have been driving stepped into the back of the van. The driver guy was broad shoulders and muscle. Peter tried his best to look confident and unflinching. “So we can either correct your stupid mistake, or I can hit you until you pass out,” He felt himself start to shake as his heart jumped again in anxiety. “Your fuckin’ choice.” 

He hated them both. 

Peter was forced to consider. Obviously having the gag back in his mouth would suck, but it's not like he was being given an option. Put it back in willingly, or get beaten up and then have it put back in against his will. His choice was made and he hated that he was choosing it even if it was the more logical option. Wordlessly, Peter opened his mouth. “There's a good boy,” The bulk was shoving the disgusting thing back in as he recoiled at silhouettes choice of words. Like a dog, he was being reminded to be good. The man pulled at his hair and forced Peter to look at his face. “Isn't it so much nicer to just listen?” 

His breath smelled like cigarettes and tootsie pops. 

“Now we're less than a day out from our destination. That means I want you lookin’ great for the boss, lil’ fang. So you're gonna shower and get dressed up all nice and then we're gonna drop you off.” He smiled a face splitting typical evil villain smile and Peter noticed a missing tooth. Silhouette had slicked back black hair and glasses. He was wearing a vest and black slacks. The air was too warm and Silhouette was too close. “And since you've been so much trouble I think I'd rather just-” suddenly the man slammed Peters head into the back of the van and he saw stars as his vision got blurry. A couple punches were delivered to his stomach. Peter fell to his knees as he coughed behind the gag and his eyes watered. Why? 

“-have you out of it for this. Makes the whole thing easier, yeah?” The man was out of breath. He knelt down next to Peter, again he was much too close as he whispered in his ear, “So just take another nap.” 

And with that he felt the familiar sting of a needle jabbed too roughly into his neck. Peter began to fall back into a unwanted sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a rough time for Peter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to apologize realy quick for having the fic marked as complete when it WAS NOT. I haven't used archive in a while and forgot that you have to check off that it's unfinished. Thank you to those who pointed it out!
> 
> Anyway this is chapter two! No new ppl yet but more is still to come.

This shit was getting really repetitive at this point. 

For what felt like the millionth time, Peter woke from a drug induced sleep. He’d thought that the previous times he’d been nauseous and in pain, but this was the absolute worst. He couldn’t even open his eyes in fear that as soon as he started to really wake up that he would projectile vomit. There was a excruciating throbbing in his skull that emanated from where his head had made contact with the van, his chest and back were cold, and his butt was sore. But the worst part about coming to like this was the immediate stab of fear and anxiety. It spread over his whole body and before he knew it he was shaking like a leaf and having a hard time breathing. He couldn’t help it, now that Peter knew he was being taken to the boss of these guys. 

“There's a good boy.”

He shuddered at the memory. 

Before all of the events had seemed unreal. Like a dream. Which was fair, because he was asleep and/or drugged up for a lot of those events. But still, the full impact of his situation hadn’t really hit him until last night. (Man, Peter really hoped that all had happened last night and not a week ago or something-) He was handcuffed to a van with no way to free himself or call out for help, at the mercy of two cruel men who he had no information on- not event their names, being taken to what could be the other side of the planet where he was going to meet a very powerful and well organized crime lord. If Peter had to guess, the reason he’d been kidnapped probably had to do with human trafficking. Which was the cherry on top of the garbage pile that was his life right now. 

He hoped his professors would let him make up his work since this road trip was against his will. 

If he ever got to see his professors again. Or anyone for that matter.

Another wave of emotion hit him as he remembered May. Oh god, who would take care of May? She was probably worrying herself to death-

Peter couldn’t think about anyone right now. It would only make him feel worse and he’d disassociate or lose focus. So instead he forced himself to open his eyes despite his nausea and evaluate. It was pretty much the same old same old. No one was in the back with him, his hands were cuffed, gag in mouth, a song he recognized was playing on the radio and he could just make out some words- ‘Caviar and cigarettes. Well versed in etiquette-’. However his clothes had been changed again while he was out, and Peter remembered the words of silhouette “So you’re gonna shower and get dressed up all nice-” His heart picked up at the thought of those two touching him while he was unconscious. He hadn’t noticed before but the smell of sweat and metal no longer clung to his skin. Instead it was more like lemon. Peters stomach twisted. Again, he couldn’t handle it so instead he moved on. He was now in a black button down and jeans. Still in only white socks. He thinks he can hear ‘the incredible bulk’ speaking. 

“I’m just sayin’ Casey. The kid is fiery. Did you see what he did to Chuck's face?” The bulk laughed and turned to look at Casey who remained silent. During the pause Peter could hear the echo of ‘She’s a killer!’ “I’m just sayin’. So I don’t think we should even let the guy walk. We can zip tie his legs and I’ll carry him in. Over my shoulder so he can’t get me in the face too.” 

“And I’m ‘just sayin’’ that it’s unnecessary. You saw how scared little Petey was last night. I think we can walk him a whole 100 yards, Al.” Casey was confirmed silhouette guy. And they knew his name. But now he knew theirs now too. It was a victory to Peter. As for his own ideas behind being an agreeable captive, the answer was a definite no. Casey would be his victim number three if he got a clear shot to his nose. 

Peter hoped Queen wouldn’t be ruined for him forever after all this. 

“Plus the boss would like it more if he saw we had his little trophy under control.” Casey shrugged and turned up the music, clearly meaning it to be the end of the conversation. Trophy? He was a trophy? Peter swore that everytime Casey talked his words were perfectly crafted just to unnerve him. But even though he hated hearing them talk about him, he was thankful that the two creeps hadn't noticed he was awake yet. Because now he had some information. They were gonna walk him somewhere which meant it was possible he could have a chance to escape if he planned it just right. Peter would have to either take them by surprise and just start running for the hills, or somehow beat both of them in a fight. It was too risky to bet on beating them in this state- hungry, shoeless, hands tied and still recovering from the effects of drugs. And chances were he wouldn’t be able to steal the car so he’d definitely be relying on his legs. Maybe if he could get a hit or two on each of them he’d have an easier time outrunning them. Even though it was likely they had guns or knives, they probably wouldn’t wound him- at least not fatally. Not since he was apparently very valuable to their boss. So he could bet on not dying today. Not yet.

This was so messed up. Mr.Stark was hopefully looking for him though. Surely they’d noticed he was missing by now. So even if he couldn’t save himself someone would find him. Right? He was freaking Spiderman for crying out loud. There was no way- 

“You’re awake.”

Wow. Very observant. Thanks Casey. 

Peter hoped he didn't look as terrified as he felt when he glared at Casey who was turned around in his seat. He wondered if Casey knew he’d heard him and Al talking. 

“Good. We’re almost there. Hope you like those clothes. The boss sure does.” 

The radio was playing an Eminem song. Peter wasn’t sure if he’d heard it before. He refused to meet Casey’s eyes and instead stared at the floor. Casey turned back around and Peter let out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. In the silence the only thing he found he could focus on without losing it was his own heartbeat, which was rapidly picking up as the car began to slow down. He noticed a bit too late that the music had disappeared and so you could very clearly hear his shakey breathes. Stop it Peter! You’re not a little kid. You can handle it. Whatever it is you can handle it. 

Casey and Al were opening the door to the back of the van and before he knew it they were in the same position as last night. This time however they were hovering over him, expressionless and cold. Casey kneeled down in front of him much too close for comfort- he could smell coffee on his breath. He cracked a smile and chuckled. “Now listen up kid, because this part is real fuckin’ important. All you have to do, Peter, is be a good boy and look pretty. Do what you’re told, or there is gonna be a whole new world of hurt for you to discover. After I pass you off my boss can and will do whatever he fuckin’ wants to you. Either you can be smart, listen, and be a pampered little shit, or, you can piss him off have all of your bones broken one by one. Consider this a favor from one pal to another.” Casey pinched his cheek and grinned his shit eating grin before standing back up and motioning for Al to get Peter. While scared, he was not deterred from his plan. If anything he was even more determined to get away. His mind was screaming to fight as Al reached to uncuff one of his arms but he knew he had to wait. 

Just wait. Just breathe. 

Before he knew it his hands were cuffed behind him and the gag was pulled from his mouth. The rag had scratched the back of his throat as it was pulled too quick and he started coughing. As tears formed in his eyes Al was shoving him out of the van. The sun hit him so hard he physically spun away from it. The last time he remembered being out of that van and breathing fresh air was right before he was taken. But his reunion with solid ground was cut short when Casey pushed him forward roughly to get him to move. He almost fell at the force. When was the last time he’d been able to properly stretch his legs? It was so much so fast. Al was helping him by grabbing his arm to steady him, but Peter quickly yanked himself away. The last thing he wanted was for either of them to touch him. Especially to help. He didn’t want to look anymore weak then he felt. All Al did was shrug.

They were in an alleyway behind an apartment complex that was on the more expensive side. It smelled like trash. They were leading him to a door that opened up into the apartments from the back of the building, a little numbered keypad acting as the lock. Al was behind him and Casey was in front, leaving a clear path to the mouth of the alley open for him to run…

Casey was punching in the code. Al sniffed. 

It was now or never. 

Peter swept his legs to kick behind Als so he fell at the force. Before Casey could properly react to his accomplices ‘Oof!’ behind him, Peter slammed his body weight into him. Casey fell against the wall and before he even reached the ground Peter was running at full speed with his heart ramming in his chest toward the parking lot of the complex. “HEY! HELP! SOMEONE HELP!” Despite the ache in his lungs he screamed at the top of them, praying that the footsteps approaching him from behind didn't get too much closer. The sky was clear and it was noticeably very hot all of a sudden. “PLEASE! ANYONE HELP-” Peter was suddenly engulfed in a huge bear hug, a large hand covering his mouth and an arm wrapped around his torso, legs kicking uselessly beneath him after being lifted off the ground in one swift motion. Before he could bite the hand it was removed and replaced with a gun to his head. The cold of the metal would have felt nice on his temple if the source hadn’t been a loaded weapon. 

“I dare you to do that again.”

Al’s voice was nowhere near the one he’d heard earlier. The one that was more casual and welcoming of a gruff laugh. It was all ice and needles now. Peter swallowed and fiddled with the chain of the cuffs. Slowly he was lowered back down to the ground, his toes just hitting the floor when he decided to do something really stupid. For the second time, he was throwing his head back at an attacker. This time he hit the forehead of the man behind him, who’s grip loosened, allowing Peter to slip through his arms and make another dash. He was in the lot but there was no one in sight. Just a handful of cars. He only got a second to look before being slammed into the concrete. This time it was Casey who caught him, and he did not hold back. He had Peter pinned with a hand on his shoulder, arms squashed under his back painfully.

Casey punched him in the stomach so hard he almost vomited right there and then. But Casey didn't stop his assault. He then hit him in his face, square in the jaw, splitting his lip. Before dealing another blow, Casey hesitated as if realizing he’d made a mistake. So instead of a full force punch he slapped Peter with the back of his hand. The burning in his guts was ten times more painful than the sting however, and he was doubled over and curling in on himself. Casey yanked his hair to prevent him from staying in a fetal position, forcing him once again to look at him. 

“You’re not worth a fraction of the trouble you’ve caused, kid. And as soon as my boss realizes that he’s gonna fuckin’ gut you.” 

Casey leaned back for a moment to catch his breath and laugh at the air. He sounded manic. “Or if that isn’t enough for him he’ll kill your aunt, too.” Now that grabbed Peter’s attention. What the hell did this guy know about her? “May was it? Too bad after finding out her little nephew was dead she followed soon after.” Peter couldn’t help the fearful huff that escaped him. “Yeah now that finally got your attention huh.”

“Get him inside before we’re even more screwed you idiot.” Came Al’s voice from the alley, completely indifferent. Peter didn’t struggle as he was forced to his feet and back toward the door that held his fate. The mention of May had completely sobored him. He could taste the copper of his own blood. “Clean him up.” 

Casey used a napkin to wipe the red streaking down his chin and roughly smoothe out his hair very quickly as Al put in the code to the door. He was silent. Al had a purple bruise forming on his forehead and Casey had his glasses missing. Peter couldn’t help but feel he had made things 1000x worse. That he had put his Aunt in danger by trying to be brave in a situation where he couldn’t risk it. That he had deserved the blows for that reason. How could he be so stupid? If they knew his name, they could look up just about anything on him. They could hurt any one of his friends. It was selfish to think that he’d only be putting himself in danger. 

Peter was on an elevator sandwhiched between his captors. And as the door closed all he could think was ‘It’s all my fault if anything happens to them.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! The song btw was Killer Queen by Queen. Next chapter might take a while longer because I'm going on vacation. 
> 
>  
> 
> also I was thinking about making a tumblr for my writing + art. I'll post it in the next chapter if that ends up happening. 
> 
> Bye!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is in heckin trouble.

Al hadn’t put away the gun. Even though they had passed a handful of workers he still had it pointed -very much out in the open- at Peter’s back. Clearly this entire complex was their domain. They could do whatever they wanted to him and no one would be around to help. He felt sick at the thought. 

It was unsettling how desolate the place was. Grand rooms with luxurious couches and HD flat screens, walls decorated with exquisite art, all empty, all abandoned. Only the occasional maid or shady figure Peter never got the chance to get a good look at as he was roughly forced ahead by a steel muzzle. His only clue to where they were was the city he caught lingering out in the distance, the sun hanging lazily behind it. It must be the late afternoon then. But god, what day was it? Was it still even the month he was taken?

For all he knew they were on the other side of the planet. He had been forcefully drugged for who KNOWS how long. Hell, Peter was still full of whatever the fuck it was making his brain so fuzzy… He wouldn’t even know if they’d taken his organs or something. One thing he knew was his strength and reflexes were definitely numbed. And that stupid needle. Peter could feel the ghost of it still. The sting and flush of liquid being forced under his skin and into his veins. The cold washing over everything. He was so cold. If he hadn’t let it happen that first time Peter wouldn’t be here. He’d be with May, with Mr.Stark, the Avengers, with anyone but these two horrible men. What if he’d just paid attention during the fight? What if he’d ran faster? Done anything differently? Then his family and friends wouldn’t be in danger. 

Peter was forced from his own personal world of self loathing when they finally stopped in front of a door. He had almost run into Casey due to the sudden halt. Neither of the two men even spared him a glance as Al knocked stoically at the door. Peter could hear music and laughter from behind it. The contrasting fear he felt made him think again about running, but he quickly abandoned the idea. It hadn’t worked before, why would it work now? He’d end up with a bullet lodged in his back and May might be next. Instead he fought the urge to jump up onto the ceiling and waited. Like a good boy. Peter shuddered.

The door swung open and they were met with the face of a very drunk man. His shirt buttons were undone and his red tie was swung over his shoulders. His cheeks were flushed and his face splitting grin revealed a gold tooth. “You must be the special delivery. Prettier than in the pictures,” Peter felt a pang of anger but only looked at the floor in silence. “but the boss won’t be too happy about those bruises.” Casey stiffened. “He needed to be taught a lesson.” Al responded with only ice in his voice. “I’m sure. Heard he was trouble. Well come on! The boss has been waiting.” Goldie looked Peter over and winked at him before motioning for his two keepers to bring him in. 

The room was full of men in a similar state as Goldie. Drunk and disheveled idiots with big grins on their faces as they took shots and laughed, all lazing around on big sofas without a care in the world. And there were girls. 5 or 6 young beautiful girls all dancing or refilling drinks with the bare minimum amount of material wrapped around them to constitute being defined as clothing. It was dark and the shades at each window was drawn, as if it mattered they could be seen from below. 

It was a party. 

Not like one of the fun ones from those cheesy highschool flicks with red cups and first kisses, but one with lots of alcohol and non consensual touching. So more like a actual high school party. Just with older creepier men and women who probably didn’t want to be there any more than Peter. He didn’t get long to observe though. He was quickly shoved forward and down a hallway that seemed neverending. Goldie lead the three of them to a door, and it was only then that Al removed the gun from Peter’s back and put it away. The relief was short lived however. He was forced inside. 

Peter stared at his bare feet as the door was shut behind them. He managed to catch a glance of a man behind a desk at the far end of the room, a floor to ceiling grand window revealing the city and the setting sun that painted the space orange. The hum of the fan could be heard over the buzzing music from outside. Peter disliked the ugly shag carpet in between his toes.

“There you two are!” The voice belonged to the man behind the desk. It was a voice strangled by years of smoking and stress. He seemed to be somewhere between angry and relieved. Peter heard him get up and walk towards them. “That trip from New York took longer than I expected.” He looked up for a moment to watch as the man took long strides toward the three of them. Casey seemed to twitch beside him but Al was still as stone. “It was too risky to move while Stark was lookin’. Apparently being in the Stark internship is enough to have Iron Man searching when you go outta town.” Al replied, practically in monotone. He felt his heart leap. At least they were looking- at least he knew they wouldn’t give up on him. “That’s why I sent you two out to replace the idiots we have up in Queens. Their too far out of the circle,” Peter could feel the man's eyes on him, burning holes straight through his core. He swallowed and let out a shaking breath. “I couldn’t trust them with this.” He felt so, so sick. “Peter,” He knew that this guy wanted him to look up, but he was frozen. He was made out of cold concrete. It didn’t matter though, because Al grabbed his hair and forced him to look at the man behind his suffering and fear. He was roughly forty, a salt and pepper beard matching the whisks of white that streaked through his dark hair. His suit was tailored to his strong build and matched his grey eyes. Peter couldn’t meet those eyes. 

All the man did was look, Peter was a piece of merchandise being inspected. He didn’t feel like a person while he was around these criminals. 

“Which one of you touched the face.” The man stared straight at him. The room was completely silent except the hum of the fan. After almost a minute Casey sighed. “He was trouble. We had to teach him a lesson-” Before Casey could finish there was a fist in his face. The boss was so quick in his movements Peter could have missed it if he’d blinked. Casey fell to the floor with a thud. “You’re payment is waiting for you. Get out before I change my mind.” Casey scurried out of the room without having to be asked twice. 

“Al, you know what to do. Then you’re free to go.” The man gave Peter a smile, villainous and white. The grip on his hair disappeared and he was pulled back out of the room by a familiar hand. Peter felt miserably trapped. 

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO. Super sorry this took so long and is also way shorter than usual. I've been busy this summer due to my job and the fact I'm preparing for a pre college art program. Which will also get in the way of my writing :( 
> 
> I'm planning on writing another chapter before I leave for the art program (which I'll probably end up adding it to this chapter later on) and then hopefully one soon after I get back from the program. I'm not gonna leave this fic to die I promise! It's just a rough year coming up bc I'll be a senior. I've also been struggling to write this particular part bc it's about to get ROUGH in this fic. Next chapter those warnings come into play! 
> 
> But enough about how woe is me! I've made a tumblr! My username is CasseroleMomma and I'd love to interact with people on there! Hmu and feel free to talk and ask questions or ask for doodles. 
> 
> Also the comments are really keeping me going. This has gotten way more hits than my old fics on my old account and we're only three chapters in?? It's so incredible how kind and encouraging everyone is! Thank you all so so much for even clicking on this! 
> 
> Talk to all of you soon!!!
> 
> -cas


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check thems tags!!

He was going to have a panic attack. Peter could feel the flood of emotion bubbling up more and more and it was only a matter of time before it spilled out. He was being led somewhere but he couldn’t bother looking to see where. Did it even really matter? His worst fears- what was going to be done to him- he knew now. Peter knew what he was going to be used for. He felt so fucking sick. 

Al said nothing. He only walked. Mechanical. Could he even really be human if this is what he did? Could any of them be? 

Peter had no more chances. He failed at every turn and now he was completely helpless. All he could do now was endure. For May. For everyone he cared about. This was it. 

Al stopped him. 

They had come to a new room and he was pulled inside. It was fairly empty with only one standing light on a nightstand and a bed in the middle of the room, a dresser on the right side and a door leading to a small bathroom on the other. No windows. Lifeless with ugly floral print on the walls. It was the worst kind of prison, because it was dressed up like it wasn’t. This whole place was putting on a face- Like everything was as it should be. 

Al moved him to the bed and lifted him up on it without words or hesitation. He felt like a child. 

When Al’s hands didn’t immediately leave his sides Peter pushed him away and jumped farther back on the bed, curling in on himself as his heart spiked again. To Peter’s surprise, Al spoke. “‘M sorry, kid. I…” His gaze was fixed to the ground, but Peter could hear the genuineness in his voice. “I’ve never actually… done anything like this before. I’ve never-” Al cut himself off and sighed, as if defeated. He didn’t finish his thought. Instead he grabbed Peter’s arms and uncuffed him briefly so he could be secured to the headboard. It only took a moment for him to be bound to the bed, the cuffs holding him there. He assumed Al was done and would leave but he didn’t. Still Peter did not turn to look at him. Right now he found it hard to do anything. If he thought too much, he was going to lose it. All his focus was dedicated to forcing himself into nothingness. 

“He knows you’re a mutant.” 

So much for not thinking. 

That immediately had Peter’s attention. Did they know who he really was, then? Would they expose him as spiderman? Heart thrumming and at a loss for words, Peter stammered “W-what?”

“You healed much too quickly from your wounds and recovered from the injections at an inhuman rate. That’s why the boss bothered brining you all the way here.” Al was back to cold, emotionless once again. Peter must have looked confused and scared (more than usual) because Al clarified “I’m telling you this because he won’t be afraid to hurt you. He knows he can without breaking you-”

“That’s why I’m his prize.” His words were almost completely broken. He felt a sob tear out of his throat as his reality came crashing back down. Peter’s head throbbed and his chest threatened to explode as he cried into his knees, unable to hide his face with his hands. Everything he’d been trying to keep out burned up in his skin. “I can’t do this. I-I’m gonna die here- I c-can’t-”

“Listen.”

Al’s tone snapped Peter out of it, his voice heavy with warning. “Do what the boss says. Make it easy on yourself and just do it. Earn his trust and maybe one day you can make it out. But only if you listen to me. Ok? I can’t help you and that’s all I’m going to tell you. After I leave this room if you see me again I’m not gonna save you.” 

Peter couldn’t believe Al’s advice. Sit there and take it. That’s all he could do then. But… “Why tell me this?” He turned to face the large man who hadn’t left the bedside. Peters face was now tear streaked (if he didn’t look pathetic before he sure did now)-but he felt just a little calmer with the hope of survival Al had briefly rekindled. 

“I don’t know.”

That was it. Al met his eyes for a blink, and then he was out of the room without even a glance back. The door shut softly behind him, followed by a click.

Peter was locked in and waiting, with only Al’s advice to keep him from breaking down again. ‘Do what the boss says. Maybe one day you can make it out.’

Maybe one day I can make it out. 

Maybe one day I can go home. 

And one thing was for certain- one day it would end. 

… 

Peter was left alone on that bed for what must have been hours. At first he considered the possibility of getting some sleep, but he found it impossible with his arms strained above his head and heart continuing to thud. He also couldn’t stand the thought of being unaware of what was happening to him. If he was unconscious he couldn’t fight back. No, he didn’t want to sleep. So instead he focused on his detachment. Leaving his aching body and just sitting in his empty head. Peter felt… better, in this alternate space. Not quite gone, but still not present. He didn’t have to think about anything. Somewhere in the back of his head he could hear a small voice telling him “Hey dummy. That’s probably not good.” But Peter couldn’t be bothered to listen. 

Maybe when this was all over. 

Peter could actually still hear the party, wherever it was. Distantly, he noticed the beating music turning to a hum and the shouts and laughter drifting into near silence. But he didn’t register it as something to pay attention to. Not until it was too late- 

Click

As the door was swung open, Peter returned to himself. He didn’t need to look to know who it was. 

“I’ve been waiting for this since they found you. Took a bit of work but I think after this it will have been worth it.” Boss had immediately begun removing clothing from himself, tie, suit coat, shoes, throwing them all aside as he approached Peter. His senses spiked as Boss decreased the distance, all ringing to move, fight, do something. And despite Peter’s thrumming heart and tense muscles, he barley flinched as his captor climbed on top of him. 

Peter refused to look into the man's eyes. They were too grey.

“Hm. Stubborn thing. But I heard about the trouble you caused.” Boss chuckled, his breath too close, blowing across Peter’s cheek. He was disgusted at the mockery of gentleness. The smell of expensive aftershave and sweat. 

“I could barely contain myself. Had to have my guests leave early.”

He clamped his eyes shut and let out a shaky breath, horrified yet unable to move. 

“Peter, look at me”

Do as he says. 

With extreme hesitation, Peter opened his eyes, still avoiding his captors. Instead he stared at his chin. Powerful arms caged him on both sides, foreign limbs straddled his legs. Peter clenched his jaw and swallowed. 

“Much better to have a real thing.” Boss sighed. “So young… such a lucky little find.” Peter felt some relief at not being asked to look into Boss’ eyes, but it was short lived. The man started unbuttoning Peter's shirt, and he jerked in pure reaction and fear. His retaliation was met swiftly with a strong grip on his throat and a force pushing him down on his chest. Boss’ hand wasn't quite tight enough to cut off air, but it was huge and intimidating locked around Peter's neck. 

“We’re gonna take this slow, and all you have to do is sit. Understood?” The somewhat playful speech was gone, the steely voice from the office returning. 

May. Your friends.

Peter nodded as best as he could. 

“Good.”

This time, boss started kissing him at the base of his neck and moved down as each button was undone. Peter hid his face best as he could inside his arm, trying to concentrate on anything else. The pattern on the wall, the feeling of his nails pressing into his palms, even just counting. This backfired as Boss used it as an opportunity to attack the exposed neck, still red from his hold.

Boss’s hands started to wonder as he consumed him. The feeling of invading touches all over his flesh made Peter’s skin crawl at the assault. He felt his stomach churn as Boss licked him down his jaw. 

Slimey. Wet. Gross. Wrong. 

Peter looked as he felt the looming mass over him raise, only to see his assaulter's… excitement bulging from his pants. “Don’t worry Peter. I’ll make you feel good too,” With a twisted smirk, Boss started palming Peter through his jeans. This time his stomach flipped. A broken sob of defeat escaped Peter before he could stop it. Boss laughed and pressed harder as Peter weakly kicked and begged around tears. “Please… Please don’t.” at first he thought he’d be punished for speaking against what Boss wanted, but he only laughed again. “You’ll change those words soon, don’t worry.” Boss ended his touching and went back to playing with Peter’s chest, hands dipping under to squeeze his ass and tongue locked over his nipples. 

None of it felt good. The fabric of Boss’ shirt felt rougher than sandpaper on his skin, the heat and stickiness making Peter feel revolted beyond belief. It was all just so wrong. He distracted himself again. Pulled away from the uncomfortableness of his body, his anxiety and terror. He couldn’t even feel the alien muscle being forced down his throat as Boss kissed him. Peter just existed. And there he remained as Boss continued the attack in Peter’s helpless state. The button of his jeans was undone and he vaguely recognized them being yanked free of his body. Boss was taking off his dress shirt and unzipping his slacks. Then, he was tugging at Peter’s last protection, his boxers. Playing with them him as he bit Peter’s shoulder- 

“HEY. FUCKWAD.”

The door slammed so hard against the wall the wood splintered. Peter jolted in his restraints as the surprise forced him back into the present. He couldn’t see what had happened, but he could hear the growl rising in Boss’ throat. 

“GUARDS!” Boss snarled, lifting himself off the bed to face the intruder. Peter couldn’t have felt more relieved over anything ever. 

“Sorry sicko, but there ain’t really any of those left to hide your fucked up ass.” Now Peter could see him- a man dressed entirely in red with a gun pointed directly at his assaulter. If he was hallucinating this, he didn’t want to be woken up. His red hero finally noticed Peter, cuffed and beaten on the bed. “Oh god. A kid?! You sir, deserve nothing but the most PAINFUL death I can deliver.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Boss spat as he raised a pistol to point at Red. “Oh wow. I’m so terrified.” Red returned in a monotone, covering his face in a mock gesture of fear. “Sorry you have to see this kiddo- but daddy's got to do his job.”

With that, two shots were fired near simultaneously, but only one thud followed. 

Peter opened his eyes and almost cried at the sight of Boss flat on the floor. 

“FUCK! Shot me right in the arm. Can’t use this thing for a few hours.”

He couldn’t form words. Peter was absolutely frozen in place. Faintly he felt the tears of relief and heard Red speaking but he was gone. He couldn’t… he didn’t… was it really over? Was he really ok? Peter found it hard to grasp that in just a short two minutes the torture had been halted and prevented from happening again. The proof was lying on the floor, dead and bleeding all over the ugly shag carpeting… and for the first time that he could recall, Peter didn’t feel any remorse for the body lying there. 

Peter heard a loud gasp and looked up at his random savior, who had already freed him and was holding the cuffs in his good hand. Next he blurted- 

“SPIDER GUY?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW! Hey guys! Finally, I have returned. And I totally underestimated how hard it would be to write this chapter and balance senior year stuff. 
> 
> This chapter was SUPER hard for me to write. I didn't want the scene to be fetishized in any way and it was just... hard to get down? IDK. But ALSO I was in an intensive art program for a month so that cut down on the time I could work. Then right after that- BOOM ITS SENIOR YEAR. 
> 
> I've been busy and I apologize for the wait, but school and my art takes front seat guys, this is my hobby and I love it but chapter updates might be slow. Hopefully not THAT slow tho lol. 
> 
> Anyway thanks for reading! All the comments mean a lot to me and it's what keeps me coming back in the end!
> 
> I hope you're ready for the more fun stuff to begin ;)
> 
> (O and check out my tumblr CasseroleMomma!)

**Author's Note:**

> Whew! It's kinda nice to be posting again after so long! I had a different account on here a while ago but middle school fan fiction as you can imagine is embarrassing. But anyway thank you for actually clicking on this? Hoping to stick with this fic so I can break in my writing muscles again! Yay!


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